


An Epic Journey

by Evietan



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Pokemon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evietan/pseuds/Evietan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pokémon AU nobody asked for. Fushimi gets his first Pokémon and makes an annoying acquaintance. Together, they take on an evil organization and compete to become champions. Or, well, they try, at least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start of a Journey

**Author's Note:**

> I needed some fluff and I also needed to write something for K finally, but my obsession for Pokémon got the best of me again, so this is the result.

Fushimi Saruhiko had no desire to become a Pokémon trainer. It just meant you had to take care of a bunch of bothersome creatures, walk a lot and sleep outside even if the weather was shitty. No thank you.

Really, he was only at this stupid laboratory and listening to the overly-friendly professor explain the basic interactions of different Pokémon types because that useless man had found it funny to do the exact opposite of what he'd told him he wanted and signed him up for a traditional Pokémon journey instead of simply continuing school, and if he didn't show up, there'd be some social worker sooner or later asking what he was actually doing.

So he figured he'd try it out, a journey meant being away from that man at least, and if he didn't like it, he could always just release the Pokémon and go home. Besides, there was a tiny chance he'd end up being good enough to actually make a living out of Pokémon battling, meaning he wouldn't have to go home ever again, and that was worth a try. He was good at the online simulations after all, and definitely knew more about Pokémon than any of the other kids here to pick their starter. After all, they were all listening intently to the old fire-water-grass spiel that was literally always used to explain the type differences.

He only started to pay attention when the actual Pokémon were released, enough Bulbasaurs, Squirtles, Charmanders and Pikachus so that every child in the room could choose the one they wanted. Fushimi didn't really care for any of them, but he figured he'd take a Bulbasaur, since its secondary poison typing could lead to a bunch of nasty, but effective strategies.

That was, until a specific Pikachu caught his eye. A girl had dashed forward, intent on getting herself a cute electric rat as her first partner, but the Pokémon had simply wriggled itself out of her arms and taken off after giving her a seemingly offended look.

As the girl stood baffled by the rejection, Fushimi knelt down in front of the Pikachu and held out his hand to get its attention. "My name is Fushimi Saruhiko. I'd like to be your trainer, not your friend. I can make you strong." That was what Pokémon lived for anyway, right? Victory. No friendship bullcrap needed, just power and strategy.  
At least the Pikachu seemed to agree on that, as it made its way up Fushimi's arm to sit on his shoulder after a short moment of contemplation. It didn't seem entirely happy, but no starting trainer would be an ideal candidate for a Pokémon looking to become as strong as possible.

He made his way over to the professor to get Pikachu's Pokéball and stood silently behind the clumsy boy currently returning and releasing his Bulbasaur for the first time. But instead of talking to Fushimi next, the professor turned to a smaller boy next to Mr. Clumsy who hadn't picked out a Pokémon. Maybe he wasn't old enough yet?

"What about you? Can't decide?" But the boy just shook his head and pulled out a Pokéball with the biggest grin on his face. " I already got one! It's a present from my dad overseas! See?" He threw the Pokéball, letting out a Fletchling that landed on his head with the same proud look as its trainer. "I'm only here because Rikio and I are gonna start our epic journey together!"

Fushimi couldn't help but snort at this. Epic journey, yeah right. It was people like this who quit their journeys first, either because they got scared or disappointed and ran home to their mommy or because they threw themselves headfirst into danger and got seriously injured. God, this guy probably didn't even understand basic strategies but could hold endless speeches how he would win his battles anyway with ~ the power of friendship ~ or something.

"You got a problem with that?" Dammit, seemed like shorty had heard him. He had no intention of interacting with idiots like that, but he also wouldn't just back down if someone spoke to him like that. "Oh no, it's nothing, I was just thinking how fitting it is that someone as short as you would only have such a tiny Pokémon."

"What was that?" Shorty seemed ready to jump on him and settle this with his fists, but thankfully the professor put a hand on his shoulder. "Now now, there's no need to resort to violence, is there?"

Shorty didn't seem convinced, crossing his arms and pouting like a baby. Then suddenly his face lit right back up. "I challenge you to a Pokémon battle then! That's okay, right, professor Weismann? I'll show you how awesome my Fletchling is!"

"Well, some friendly rivalry can never hurt! Let's just wait for everyone to register their Pokémon first and then you two can go outside and showcase what a Pokémon battle looks like in real life." Professor Weismann agreed, much to Fushimi's chagrin. He wanted to get going already, not wait for all these brats to decide and then fight a pointless battle against some idiot. At least his chances of winning were pretty much at 100%, since he had the type advantage and his opponent most likely had neither the brains nor the capabilities to teach his low-level Fletchling any surprising attacks.

A few minutes later, they stood on opposite sides of the laboratory's battlefield with a bunch of brand new trainers excitedly gawking at them. Great. Fushimi wasn't about to show them an interestingly close battle. A quick look at his newly acquired Pokédex had confirmed Pikachu knew Thundershock alongside Tackle, Growl and Tail Whip, so the fight should be over after one or maybe two quick hits from him.

He didn't hesitate to call out the command to attack as soon as he got the signal to start, and Pikachu obeyed, sending high-voltage sparks in the direction of Shorty's Fletchling.

"Dodge with Quick Attack and then attack full throttle ahead!" Before Fushimi could even properly realize what happened, the Fletchling had evaded his attack and flown straight into his Pikachu's stomach, doing quite a chunk of damage. Pikachu tried to retaliate by hitting it, but the tiny bird was gone from reach as fast as it had come.

Of course. In online simulations, neither the opponent's size nor speed played into the odds of hitting them, but in reality, it only made sense that it was harder to hit a Fletchling then, say, a Venusaur. Didn't make Fushimi's situation any better. If he couldn't hit it with Thundershock, he wouldn't be able to hit with Tackle and he couldn't win the battle without inflicting damage. He had nothing to reduce Fletchling's speed with either.

He would have forfeited the battle right then, if it wasn't for Shorty's smug expression. He didn't care about the battle, but the thought of losing to such an idiot with such a simple strategy sickened him. He let Pikachu use Growl to lower Fletchling's attack and give him time to think, but he was well aware he was only stalling out a losing battle if he couldn't find a way to get some attacks in.

Fortunately, his chance came with Fletchling's fourth hit. A tiny spark went from Pikachu to Fletchling at the contact and Fushimi didn't waste any time on doubting his eyes, yelling "Thundershock!" as fast as he could.

This time, it connected. The super effective attack was luckily enough to take out Fletchling and make the bird dwindle to the ground, fainted. Loud cheers erupted from the sidelines as one of the professor's assistants announced Fushimi as the victor.

"What the... What was that? Fletchling, are you okay?" Shorty ran onto the battlefield to pick up his fainted Pokémon, breathing out a sigh of relief when it opened its eyes and let out a weak chirp toward its trainer. "You did a really good job, come back and rest a little."

He stood on the field awkwardly for a short while after that, then made his way over to Fushimi and begrudgingly held out his hand. "I have no idea how you managed to hit Fletchling, but you're the first one who did it, so congrats, I guess..." Fushimi made no move to return the handshake, merely regarding the other boy with a condescending stare.

"You really don't know the first thing about Pokémon battling, do you?" Really, this battle had been extremely close and Fushimi had only won by a stroke of luck, but nobody needed to know how fast his heart was still racing from just this one measly battle. Especially not this idiot. "What is that supposed to mean? I clearly had the upper hand!"

Fushimi just clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Pikachu has an ability called static. Figure the rest out yourself, if your tiny brain is even capable of that." By now, shorty had retracted his hand and balled it into a fist, looking ready to solve this physically again. "What's with you? Fine, keep your secrets, but at least tell me your name! I'm totally getting revenge next time!"

At this, Fushimi could only roll his eyes. If it was up to him, there wouldn't be a next time in the first place. Even if there was, he sincerely doubted the outcome would be any different. Still, getting a name for his first opponent seemed like a decent enough idea. "Isn't it rude to ask someone for their name without introducing yourself first?"

"Oh, right! I'm Yata! Misaki..." the last part came out in a barely understandable murmur, but Fushimi picked it up anyway. "Fushimi Saruhiko. I'll be looking forward to your next defeat then, Misaki." With that, Fushimi went to pick up his Pikachu - who was looking way too proud of itself for having won a battle where it had the advantage - and return it to its Pokéball after a short praise.

Ignoring Yata's indignant yelling, he bowed to the professor and made his way out of the laboratory to finally get started with his journey. This had already taken up way too much of his time.

Still, he couldn't stop his lips from twitching upwards a little as he regarded the Pokéball in his hands. _Yata Misaki, huh..._ Even if this journey was a pain in the ass, maybe it wouldn't end up being completely horrible after all.


	2. Fighting an Evil Team is Part of the Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yata drags Fushimi into taking on an evil organization. It goes as well as one would expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a lot longer than expected... But I'm actually pretty proud of how it turned out! So enjoy reading!

Fushimi hated his life. More specifically, he hated the boy currently pressed against him in a space way too small for them both, because he apparently had a talent to not only make horrible decisions, but to drag Fushimi right along with him. Maybe stupidity really was contagious, there was no other possible explanation for Fushimi to deem it an acceptable idea to sneak into a giant heli-carrier that belonged to a group of people way too dangerous for either of them to take on, just for one useless Ivysaur that didn't even belong to either of them.

And now that they were stuck here, in the narrow space between two shelves filled with Pokéballs and they had absolutely no place to run to since the stupid carrier had taken off and there were grunts talking just a few feet away from them, maybe it would dawn even on Yata that this had been, in fact, a very terrible plan. If it had been a plan at all, to Fushimi it seemed more like an impulse decision put into action without ever being considered by the brain.

Worst of all, he couldn't even complain, or berate Yata, or even curse, just press himself closer to the wall, keep his breathing as silent as possible and hope the grunts wouldn't actually come far enough into the room to find them. Because they were in a shitty heli-carrier headed to god-knows-where, and maybe they could take on the grunts in the room - two against three, but they didn't seem too bright - but they definitely couldn't take more than thirty others and whoever was in charge of this, especially not all at once.

Yata himself wasn't helping him either. The grunts had started mocking their victims for having been too weak and too dumb to prevent their Pokémon from being stolen. Fushimi had merely rolled his eyes - as if they could talk, grown adults who had to be given Pokémon by some shady organization to steal from 10-year-old children. Pathetic. But Yata had been growing angrier over the entire conversation, and by now his hand was twitching towards his Pokéballs, desperate to take on those goons for talking badly about his friend. He was held back only by whatever tiny piece of common sense he possessed as well as the most intimidating stare Fushimi could manage.

Luckily, the grunts left the room pretty soon without really looking around. When the door clicked shut behind them, Fushimi held his breath two, three, four seconds, then let out a sigh of relief. He didn't trust Yata's common sense enough to assume it would have lasted much longer, and even if he was smaller, Yata was definitely strong enough to break through whatever Fushimi could have tried to hold him back with.

Finally Yata stumbled out of their little niche and began looking through the Pokéballs again, searching for the one that contained Kamamoto's Ivysaur. At least he'd been assured the ball had his name engraved on it, it wouldn't have been fun to release and return hundreds of Pokémon before they found the right one. Fushimi began looking where he had left off as well, the sooner they found it the sooner they could try to find a way out of this that didn't involve them winding up dead or on the hit list of some underground Pokémon dealers.

"Found it!" Yata exclaimed suddenly, proudly presenting a Pokéball to Fushimi.

"Great." At least they'd accomplished what they came for without causing a disaster. "Let's go find a way out of here then." But instead of agreeing, Yata made a displeased face. Fushimi could feel the familiar mix of annoyance, dread and resignation that he usually got from dealing with Yata settle in his stomach before the boy could even say anything. "You know, I've been thinking..." _Come on, you can't be serious..._ "What about all these other Pokémon? We can't just leave them here."

Fushimi let his head drop against the shelf. Of course he was serious. Of course he wanted to play the hero. Why else would they even be here? "And how exactly do you suppose we carry hundreds of Pokéballs out of here without getting caught, Misaki?" Unsurprisingly, Yata didn't shoot back a well-thought-out, reasonable plan. Instead, he went on the defensive. "Like I know! We can figure something out! It's not okay to just go! And I told you not to call me by my first name!"

'We' most likely was supposed to mean 'you'. Typical.

"Can you announce our presence any louder?" Fushimi hissed through gritted teeth. This absolutely wasn't worth it. He should've never went after Yata in the first place. Granted, the other would've gotten himself killed with a 98% chance if he went alone, but that wasn't Fushimi's problem. Really, the only way Yata's death would be inconvenient for him was the pesky fact that it would leave them in an eternal draw without Fushimi getting a chance to prove that Yata's last win had been nothing but dumb luck. Nobody would want that kind of score against a complete idiot, right?

But now he was thinking it might not be worth dying for.

Yata threw him a sour look and crossed his arms, but thankfully didn't throw an even bigger tantrum. He then turned around and began looking around the room. Maybe he was actually thinking about a way to get all these Pokémon out?

Not that that would bear any results, but at least he was occupied now. Which meant Fushimi could actually think about the situation himself. They were in a heli-carrier god-only-knows how high above the ground, and that meant he was most certainly stuck. He remembered the way back to the loading area where they snuck in, sure, and they could easily bust through the wall, but... He didn't have a flying type. And the only person who might be willing to carry him out seemed dead-set on rescuing all these stolen Pokémon.

Great. Just his luck.

There was at least this whole room filled with Pokéballs, and technically they had no idea if there were more. Carrying them out wasn't an option, neither was battling it out with the crew. And they most likely didn't have too much time on their hands either, as the vessel didn't seem fuel-efficient enough to be capable of long distance travel, which meant if they didn't do something soon, they'd end up in the villains' hideout, surrounded by even more enemies with even worse chances of making a run for it. Waiting for that wasn't an option.

Really, there was only one thing they could do. "Let's bring this thing down." Yata turned back to him with a surprised look on his face. "We could try to mess with their electronics enough to have them make an emergency landing. While they panic, we make our escape and call the police so they can deal with the rest."

Yata's face spread into the widest grin imaginable. "I knew it! That plan is perfect! You're really amazing, Saruhiko!"

Fushimi merely clicked his tongue. That plan was nowhere near perfect and could very well get them both killed. Only an idiot would say something like that and mean it. But then, Yata being an idiot wasn't anything new, was it? "Whatever. We can't do it from here. I guess the control room would be best, but there's bound to be people there, so I'd say we should search for the machine room."

Yata nodded, expression shifting to almost comically serious. He clicked Kamamoto's Pokéball onto his belt and turned towards the door. "Let's go."

They slipped out of the door and began sneaking through the hallways, just generally trying to get further inside without being seen by anyone. Luckily they found a map showcasing the emergency evacuation routes. Fushimi generally supported following fire regulations, but he had to admit they could bite you in the ass in situations like these. But then, they planned on dropping the whole thing on the ground, maybe openly accessible emergency plans actually weren't that bad even for illegal activities.

Now that they knew where they were going, the plan seemed to follow through smoothly. The only difficult part was dodging the grunts walking around the hallways. It went well enough until they were just in front of the machine room. Just when they were about to go in, the door was opened and two grunts stepped outside.

Panicking, they scrambled to get back around the corner, making it just in time before the grunts saw them. They tried to make a run for it, but a door right next to them swung open. Two hands grabbed Yata, one covering his mouth, and pulled him into the room. Before Fushimi had time to react, something sticky and wet wrapped itself around his torso and arms, pulling him in right behind Yata.

The door silently clicked shut behind them, leaving them in absolute darkness. Fushimi listened to the grunts walking by the door, idly chattering, completely unaware of their presence. When those sounds faded into the distance, he could only hear his own laboured breathing as his heart rate began to slow down a little.

Yata broke the silence, protesting (probably) against the hand still pressed to his mouth.

The light blinked on just as the wet thing let Fushimi go, and he had to close his eyes against the sudden brightness. When he carefully tried to open them again, he found himself in a tiny storage room cramped with cleaning utensils, full ash trays and empty alcohol bottles. Yata stood next to him, still rubbing at his eyes.

And across from them stood their saviour - or the one who'd pulled them into this room with whatever intention - a blonde girl, maybe a year or two older than them. It was hard to tell, since she wore a black cloth that covered half of her face. She had a Greninja at her side and both of them had a calculating, slightly annoyed look on their face. Probably. Kinda hard to tell with one wearing a mask and the other one being a ninja frog that wore its own tongue as a scarf.

Wait... Had that sticky thing been its tongue? Ewww, gross.

"A... a girl?!" Yata suddenly blurted out, face quickly turning beet red. Fushimi couldn't help but click his tongue. Yes, 50% of the human population were female. What a surprise. Even if he'd been pressed against her, that was no reason to freak out like that. Especially since he hadn't been able to tell her gender while he'd been most likely pressed against her chest.

Way more pressing was the question what she was doing here. She didn't seem to be working with the Pokémon thieves, which was a good thing, but there was no guarantee she was some sort of self-declared hero who would help them in their quest to save the stolen Pokémon. She might be here just to gather information or retrieve one of her own Pokémon or maybe even sent by another shady organization to sabotage this one.

"What do you want from us? And why are you here?" Fushimi asked, figuring it was better to get to the point and get at least some sort of grasp on the mysterious girl.

"My mission statement is of no importance to you. However, I need you to refrain from getting caught, as a heightened alertness to intruders would not be beneficial to my purpose." Her voice was bland and emotionless as she stated these words like a practiced speech. So any charitable purpose was pretty much off the list for Fushimi.

"Huh? What is that even supposed to mean?" Yata asked, but Fushimi paid him no mind. If she had a selfish purpose, they could make use of that, or she could seriously get in their way. "Well, even if your 'mission'" Fushimi made sure to sound extra ironic on that word "is none of our business, you're probably better off telling us. Because we're gonna bring this thing down, regardless of whether it's beneficial to you or not. We _could_ wait though, if you gave us a good enough reason to."

He'd instinctively crossed his arms and was now staring at the taller girl, hoping he looked as confident as he sounded. Yata blinked at Fushimi, then turned to the girl and grinned at her, definitely looking more confident than the situation warranted.

They were met with silence for a while, the girl staring right back at them. When she finally spoke, her voice was still bland, but Fushimi would bet he heard a little annoyance in it. "I am here to retrieve a specific Pokémon. It is very valuable and therefore not kept with the others. There should be more of value there as well, so if you were to accompany me, I'd be willing to share. I am also aware that both that room and the machine room are constantly guarded, so I suggest cooperating in both cases. However" and now her voice definitely turned sharp, "if I see my life or my mission endangered, I will not hesitate to break any prior agreement."

Fushimi glanced at Yata, who in turn questioningly glanced back at him. This didn't really sound too good, especially considering they didn't know how much time they had left, but... in a weird way, it sounded honest. And fighting her wasn't the best choice either. Yata gave a slow nod, and considering their limited options, Fushimi nodded back.

"Fine", Fushimi agreed, "then let's not waste any more time." Mystery girl nodded and pulled out a Pokéball. "Kecleon will go first and alert us to any possible grunts walking around." She released some weird green lizard, but Fushimi could barely get a glance at it before it turned invisible. Okay, he could see how that was useful. Unlike them, she actually seemed to know what she was doing.

They sneaked through the hallways again, this time without any close calls thanks to Kecleon. Finally, they arrived in front of a door, that... looked exactly like all the others. If this was indeed where they hid all their most valuable stuff, Fushimi had to hand it to the thieves. He wouldn't have found it. Maybe whoever was their leader wasn't as idiotic as most of their underlings. There was of course the possibility that mystery girl was just messing with them, but somehow he doubted that.

"According to my intel, there should be four guards inside." She spoke in her usual emotionless tone. If she hadn't changed it up earlier, it would have probably begun to freak Fushimi out by now. "I suggest we send four Pokémon through the vents and knock them out in one go, before they are able to release Pokémon of their own. The vents are purposefully designed to be too small for humans though, so only tiny Pokémon will make it through. I can provide these two."

She released a Ninjask and a Shedinja, both dangerous Pokémon, yet all Fushimi could think was "Wow, she's really trying for that ninja vibe..."

Fushimi wordlessly released his Pikachu, it should be able to take down a human easily enough with Iron Tail. Yata called out a Riolu. That was new. He definitely hadn't had that at their last match, or else he wouldn't have used a Magikarp of all things. Golden or not, Fushimi would have probably quit being a trainer right then and there if his Tentacool hadn't won that matchup.

They silently instructed their Pokémon what to do and waited anxiously in front of the door when they sent their Pokémon off, nervously glancing left and right for approaching goons and ready to jump into the room should they hear anything that indicated something went wrong.

But they only heard four faint 'thud's. Yata was the first to grab the door handle and peek inside, revealing four unconscious grunts and four proud Pokémon. Riolu jumped at Yata, who in turn caught it in his arms, greeting it with a "Good job!" and a pet on its head. His own Pikachu jumped onto his shoulder uninvited, but he murmured a "Well done." anyway. He'd learned long ago that Pikachu didn't work well if he didn't praise it for its victories, no matter how easy they were.

Ninja girl simply petted her bugs who had settled on her shoulders as well. She was focused on the flickering TV in one corner of the room, though. "There it is. That's what I want."

"A TV?", Yata asked incredulously. And for once, Fushimi was glad Yata had asked an idiotic question, because it saved him from having to ask it himself. He didn't know of any Pokémon that looked like a TV or could shapeshift into objects.

"Just watch", Ninja girl answered. "Or go look around, I'm not interested in anything else here." She made her way over to the TV and tentatively rattled it a bit. Suddenly a tiny orange Pokémon jumped out of it, sending electric sparks her way. Shedinja took the attack for her - since it didn't sustain any damage from electric attacks - and she began to battle it.

Fushimi shifted his attention to the door, hoping the ruckus wouldn't attract anyone. Yata began shuffling through the shelves on the other side of the room, possibly searching for some other valuable stuff to take. Fushimi himself wasn't interested, he had enough money to afford whatever he needed, and he highly doubted these people had any items that were too rare to buy.

Meanwhile, ninja girl's Shedinja had fainted. Fushimi hadn't exactly seen how, but he wouldn't be surprised if the TV Pokémon was a ghost type or at least knew some ghost attacks. She called out a Ditto instead, making the fight a lot harder to follow if you were looking at a door most of the time.

It took her a few tries, but eventually the Pokémon stayed in her Ultra Ball. Yata had already finished looking around after he stuffed something into the pocket of his jacket. Fushimi hadn't seen what it was though, and wasn't curious enough to ask. It was none of his business anyway.

Surprisingly enough, ninja girl calmly instructed Kecleon to lead them on their way back to the machine room. Somehow, Fushimi had expected she'd ignore their agreement as soon as she got what she came for. But then again, maybe bringing down the vessel had been part of her original plan or was in some other way beneficial to her. Not like he knew, or cared.

The way back went just as smooth, and they managed to take down the guards in the machine room the same way as well. Honestly, it was beginning to creep Fushimi out. Sure, they had something close to professional help, but three kids shouldn't be able to take on an organized crime ring by themselves. Even if it was unlikely that the big boss was here. He really hoped this wouldn't take an extreme downturn soon.

But for now, all he could do was focus on the task at hand and get it over with as soon as possible. There was a single control panel connected to four different engines. He could probably figure out how to turn off the engines with it, but then they could be easily turned on again. No, it was way better to simply destroy the engines.

The only real question was how many of them. It was obviously really dumb to destroy all of them, since then the carrier would simply crash with all of them. But it was probably designed to be still functioning with one engine out of commission. But would it still be able to go with two engines left? Or would it simply crash with only one still running?

Not wanting to take the risk, he decided to go with destroying two engines. If nothing happened, he figured he could still destroy a third. Even though he was no expert on engines, each one of them had a big chunk of cables leading into the wall. If he cut off the connection, that should render the engines useless, right?

"Okay", he said. Yata looked at him expectantly while his Pikachu had a mean grin on its face. Ready to wreak havoc, as usual. Ninja girl had turned her back on him, watching the door, but her Ninjask sat on her shoulder and watched him closely. "Pikachu, cut off those cables with Iron Tail." While his electric rat hopped off his shoulder to complete its assigned task, he released his Monferno. "You go and burn the cables from the engine next to it, got it?"

Monferno happily jumped over to the engine, engulfing its fist in flames and hitting the cables at the same time as Pikachu cut them across the room.

The carrier made a terrible creaking sound, then it suddenly dropped to one side. Fushimi lost his footing and crashed against the wall. He could feel pain flare up in the shoulder he'd landed on, but decided now wasn't the time to dwell on that.

Yata wasn't much better off than him, though at least he had caught himself with his hands before he landed on the wall. Ninja girl was still standing, but only thanks to her Ninjask holding her upright. But at least the heli-carrier was losing height, they could feel it.

"Let's go!", Yata yelled over the stuttering noises from the remaining engines, just seconds before the door flew open with a bang and two grunts stormed - or more like stumbled - inside.

"What the-? Who are you brats? What did you _do_?", One of them screamed, while the other had the mind to call out his Pokémon, a Golbat. The first one hastily added his Koffing to the mix, both sadly not influenced by the shaking of the heli-carrier.

"X-Scissor!"

"Sneasel, use Icy Wind!"

"Pikachu, Monferno, knock them out!"

With just one attack, both Pokémon had fainted and their trainers tumbled to the floor, just as unconscious. Fushimi couldn't help the grin spreading over his face. That's what you got for taking Pokémon from others instead of actually putting effort in yourself.

"Take that!", Yata yelled, "but seriously, we should get away." The other two nodded. "With the carrier sinking as fast as it does, I suggest we go to the Control Room and break through the glass windows there." Ninja girl's voice was as calm as ever, but it had an edge to it Fushimi couldn't quite place. Maybe it was nervousness? Or excitement?

"Okay" Fushimi and Yata breathed out almost simultaneously. They scrambled for the door, Fushimi only stopped shortly to return Monferno to its Pokéball. Pikachu jumped on his bad shoulder, demanding to stay outside. Fushimi couldn't help but cringe. "Other shoulder, buddy." Pikachu jumped over quickly, satisfied as long as it could stay close. It was growing a bit affectionate lately... Or maybe it simply didn't want to miss out on the action that was sure to follow.

They rushed to the Control Room, easily taking out any goons they came across, though some were simply panicking and trying to escape, paying no mind to a bunch of children who had no business being there.

When they reached it, the Control Room was completely empty except for a girl in a high school uniform wearing a Zoroark mask. It should have been ridiculous, really, but Fushimi felt a shiver run down his spine and instinctively reached for his Pokéballs. Considering that two seconds later he was flanked by a Greninja and a Talonflame, he hadn't been the only one. While the girl busied herself with laughing at them, Fushimi called out his Gabite. Still, the girl didn't seem scared in the slightest, even if there were six Pokémon facing her now.

"Really now? Three kids? That's all it took to take this down?" She was having another hysterical fit of laughter before she continued on. "Gotta congratulate you though. I'm sure you'll make it big if you keep this up. Well" and now her voice was dripping with a creepy mixture of glee and anger, " _if_ you make it out alive that is!"

She erupted into laughter again, but Fushimi couldn't pay attention because the door behind them exploded. Only the Ninjask that had been watching its trainer's back again saved them from getting hit by using Protect and deflecting the door back at the first of _a lot_ of grunts storming in.

"Well, I'd take care of you myself, but that seems a little unfair, so I'll leave you to my dear minions~ I'll be eagerly awaiting your remains- Oh, I mean results! Don't pay me too much mind~" With that, she called out a Hydreigon, busted a large hole into the window front behind her and took off.

"Get back here, you coward!" Yata moved to run after her, but Fushimi held him back. "Stay, you idiot! It's better if she's gone! There's no way we can take them all, we gotta run!" And maybe he was panicking a bit, but there were about a dozen grunts, all looking pissed off and ready to fight, and they were on an airship that was quickly deteriorating and he did not want to still be on it when it hit the ground and he still didn't have a flying type and he definitely didn't care about some crazy girl getting away and Pikachu wasn't on his shoulder anymore, dammit, where was it-?

"Okay." And suddenly he was grounded again, thoughts stopping to spin around in his head as Yata's determined face came into focus. "Just get on Talonflame and return your Pokémon when it takes off, okay?" Fushimi nodded, and Yata released his grip on Fushimi's shoulders - wait, when had he gripped them? Shouldn't that have hurt?

But he had no time to think. Yata called out his Eevee and Riolu to take Talonflame's place in the battle against the grunts. The bird soon landed next to Fushimi and crouched down a little, inviting him to get on its back.

He was barely seated when he heard Yata call "You got an out?" to ninja girl, but she only nodded and waved him off, even though she seemed to be struggling, taking on a majority of the grunts. And now that he was looking at the battle, he could finally see Pikachu, battling an Arbok back to back with Yata's Sneasel. Thankfully, it didn't look too badly hurt.

Relief flooded through him, and he nearly fell off when Talonflame began moving, taking off towards the window. He buried the fingers of his good arm in its feathers and twisted the other one painfully around to get his Pokéballs pointed roughly in the direction of his Pokémon. "Pikachu, Gabite, return!"

It worked, and he could see Yata returning his own Pokémon as well before he had to duck as Talonflame sailed through the hole left by Hydreigon. Wait, were they just gonna leave Yata behind? That idiot couldn't have been planning-

But he hadn't. No, his plan was even dumber. As Fushimi twisted around to see what was happening, Yata had just put his foot on the broken window frame and _jumped_ straight out.

Fushimi had only a moment to contemplate if he was hallucinating or if that idiot had lost his last bit of survival instinct, then Talonflame sank abruptly a few meters and he had to put all of his strength and focus into not falling off. But Talonflame caught itself, struggling and still sinking a bit with every flap of its wings, but it was flying and carrying him away from that god-awful heli-carrier.

No, them. Fushimi belatedly realized Yata had actually managed to grab onto its legs after that ridiculous stunt and was now laughing like the idiot he was from somewhere below Fushimi.

Ninja girl passed them with a Crobat, giving them a nod and a short wave as a goodbye before she steered her Pokémon into another reaction. Fushimi simply nodded back while Yata called a cheery "See ya!".

And then they landed on a small field of grass, right outside someone's backyard on the outskirts of some city Fushimi didn't recognize. A good distance behind them, the carrier crashed into the ground, but right now, Fushimi couldn't care less.

He sank off Talonflame's back, lying face down into the grass and tried to calm his breathing. They were on the ground again.

_Alive._

Next to him, Yata was laughing again and babbling praises to his Talonflame. Fushimi looked over to him and saw him hugging his partner, who angrily pecked at his hair, probably to make it clear just how stupid that stunt of his was. Heh. Smart bird. Smarter than its owner, that was for sure.

He couldn't help the warm feeling in his gut, slowly bubbling over, tugging at his lips and finally bursting into tiny fits of laughter. Fushimi didn't even know what he was laughing about, but at the moment, it felt like the only right thing to do.

He only stopped when he realized Yata was staring at him. Taking deep breaths, he let himself sink backwards into the grass again. "So", he began, even though he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. But the words just came out on their own. "You got yourself a Riolu and a Sneasel, and Fletchinder evolved to into Talonflame. Is there anything else I need to know before I kick your butt in a Pokémon battle tomorrow? I think I deserve that for all this crap you dragged me into."

Yata huffed a laugh. "Well, I still have my sixth spot open, but..." he trailed off and reached into his pocket, pulling out what he had taken from the thieves earlier, "my Eevee is gonna be a Jolteon by then!" Now he was grinning from ear to ear, presenting two Thunder Stones to Fushimi. "Oh, and Magikarp is a Gyarados now too! It's red!"

That wasn't what caught Fushimi's attention though. He knew what a shiny Gyarados looked like. But...

"Why do you need two Thunder Stones then?"

Yata blinked. "Huh? I don't. Isn't it obvious?" No, it really wasn't, but Yata didn't give him time to answer anyway, just took one of the stones away while the other remained in the hand he held outstretched to Fushimi. "It's for you, of course. You need one sooner or later for your Pikachu, right?"

"Um..." He did. He'd wanted to evolve his Pikachu for a while now, but he hadn't found a Thunder Stone yet and he'd been mostly passing through smaller cities, none of which had stores that sold them. But he really hadn't expected Yata to know how Pikachu evolved and even less that he'd think of him when stealing from some gang.

"Sure." He grabbed it from Yata, noticing the difference between the cool, smooth exterior of the stone and Yata's warm and rough fingers under his own. "Thanks, I guess..." Yata gave him another one of his widest grins, and for a moment, Fushimi whished time would just stop and freeze them into this moment forever, just the two of them, a big adventure behind them and a bright future full of possibilities in front of them.

But reality settled in fast, and the smile fell from Yata's face as he realized their situation. He looked around panicky. "Dammit, where are we? And what time is it? Rikio's gotta be super worried since I just ran off, I have to call him..."

And just like that, the moment was over, and normalcy began to settle in again. But now it seemed incredibly dull to what he'd just experienced. He wasn't about to give that up.

"I'll see you tomorrow at noon then, at the Pokémon Center. Don't be late, Misaki."

"As if! But I'll win again tomorrow, just you wait, Saruhiko!"

"Whatever", Fushimi murmured as he turned and walked away. But his entire being was already brimming with anticipation of their battle- No, in anticipation of Misaki, of his smiles and dumb mistakes and ridiculous ideas.

If he could just hold onto that feeling, he could believe he was actually _alive_ for the first time ever.


	3. Journeys Don't Just End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every journey leads to the Pokémon League eventually, so of course it's where Yata and Fushimi end up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy end is sappy.

Fushimi let himself sink onto the bed of the Pokémon Center. The rush of victory still fresh in his bones, he let it wash over him for a minute.

Nearly two years had passed by now since he'd started his journey and fought his first battle against Misaki. That seemed so far away now... It was also pretty much exactly a year since their first try at the Pokémon League, and subsequently, his first real battle _with_ Misaki.

Of course, when they'd entered the League, both of them aimed to win it, but even Misaki with his limited brain later admitted that he'd never expected to actually make it to the top. After all, they were both still beginners, up against adults who'd done Pokémon Battling as a sport their whole lives. Still, they'd wanted to come at least far enough to battle each other and be scouted by a sponsoring company and fulfil the most common child's dream of becoming professional Pokémon Battlers as well.

But dreams were dreams for a reason, and life wasn't a Shonen manga. Both of them lost pretty early on, neither of them got scouted, and they never got an official battle against each other.

He was pretty sure he'd never forget the night after his loss.

_When the match was over, Fushimi had mechanically brought his defeated team to the Pokémon Center and sat in the lobby for hours, just staring at the ground, trying to let the realization set in. Which was stupid, really. He'd made it past the group stages and actually won his first knock-out battle. That was pretty good. In fact, it was ridiculously good. Even collecting all badges in the span of a year and entering the Pokémon League proved impossible for most kids, let alone winning even a single League battle._

_Still, it hadn't been good enough. He'd been lucky in his match-ups, but as soon as he had to face a pro, he'd been completely overwhelmed. The only K.O. he'd gotten was thanks to his Gengar's Destiny Bond, but it had been way too little, way too late._

_He should have never expected anything else. He wasn't even sure when he'd started to expect something else._

_No, that was a lie, he realized after he'd taken back his healed Pokémon and left the Pokémon Center. Misaki sat on a bench in front of it, waiting for him. He had begun to expect something else on that day, in the grass, with his heart beating like crazy and Misaki's hand outstretched to him, offering him a Thunderstone._

_Nothing good ever happened to him. If he got a present, it was only so that man could take it away again later, in the cruellest way possible. That had been a constant rule in his life, but Misaki had gone and broken it, unthinkingly and completely unaware of what he'd done._

_And now he sat there, as if he knew about that stupid bud of hope he'd planted into Fushimi's heart and gave him the fakest lopsided grin Fushimi had ever seen. "Hey", was all he had to say. Fushimi clicked his tongue, but sat down next to him anyway. They sat in silence for a long time, watching the streets get emptier as the sun began to set and the air got chilly, leaving you to doubt the warmth the spring sun had spread over the day._

_It was only when it began to get uncomfortably cold and Fushimi was already considering to get up, that Misaki made a noise. Not sure of what it was at first, he turned around and opened his mouth to ask, but quickly shut it again when he realized Misaki was sobbing, his shoulders shaking and tears running down his cheeks._

_Unsure of what to do, he remained silent. But soon his own eyes began to sting as well, and that sure as hell wasn't the solution. "I'm the one who lost, you know." he finally murmured. But his voice broke in the middle, and hearing himself sound so pathetic wasn't helping at all. Soon enough, the tears were spilling and he had to push up his glasses onto his forehead to wipe them away._

_"S' not like I won, y'know?" Misaki shot back, probably trying to sound like he was joking - he'd already lost yesterday in round one of the knock-out stages after all - but he ended up sounding just as pathetic as Fushimi. He hadn't been crying like this then, but... Well, maybe he had, but not in front of Fushimi. He'd just punched him in the chest, given him a fake grin and said "Just means you gotta win this for both of us, right?" before running away. But now that they were both in the same situation, there was no need to hide it anymore._

_"I don't want to go back home." Misaki spoke up again, voice a little more stable now. "You're probably just gonna say I'm stupid again, and you're probably right, but I was never really good at anything, so when this was working out, I thought, I really thought it was something I could do for a change." The tears were still falling, but Misaki didn't even seem to care anymore. "Finally, my mom would tell me 'I'm proud of you' every time I called home instead of trying to cheer me up after I failed a test or got detention for fighting with the other kids again. I, I know it's dumb, it sounds so stupid even to me, but..." He broke off, burying his face in his knees, his sobs shaking his entire body now._

_"I don't want to go back either." Fushimi admitted quietly. His journey had ended as a failure after all, and the idea of facing that man again afterwards was enough to make his stomach churn. Unlike Misaki, he hadn't called home even once in the past year. He hadn't seen any reason to. They'd still have to take him back, of course, for appearance' sake, but it would be hell anyway._

_Somehow, that man's sick smile seemed even worse now that he had Misaki's to compare it to._

_"Why don't you sign up for the Double Battles then?" Misaki asked. By now, Double Battles were nearly as prestigious as the classic Single ones and the tournament would start right after the Single tournament had ended. Fushimi had actually toyed with the idea of entering it before he had lost, but... "Aren't you going to?" Surely Misaki wouldn't be this down if he still had a chance of making it._

_But he shook his head, utterly defeated. It wasn't a look he liked on Misaki, Fushimi noticed. "Never been any good at those."_

_Figures. Double Battles were by definition more complicated than Single Battles and they were harder to master since you constantly had to split your attention and keep all four Pokémon in your mind. Too much for any beginner, that was for sure. It gave the professionals even more of an advantage over new trainers, too. Not really worth it, now that he thought about it. But what else was there? Sure, Triple and Rotation Battles had official tournaments too, but they were even more complicated and lacked public interest, meaning you had to be pretty dedicated to them to be any good and get a sponsorship._

_There was one last tournament though. And before Fushimi's brain could supply him with all the reasons why this would never work out, the idea had already left his mouth._

_"Let's sign up for the Tag Battles together."_

_Misaki was so stunned he stopped crying. "Huh?" was his intelligent answer, but Fushimi kept talking anyway. "Think about it. Double Battles are too complicated, no way are we gonna just excel at them. We don't have time to train either. Forget Triple and Rotation Battles, those suck. Nobody even cares about them. But Tag Battles close out the League, so if we make it a bit further, people will notice us, and it gives us time to train. You only have to control one Pokémon, so it's not as difficult and the Tag Battle tournament is the only one known for often making pros fail spectacularly, since teamwork can always go wrong."_

_Still speechless, Misaki blinked at him in confusion. But then he took a deep breath and furiously wiped away any tears still left on his face. The smile spreading on his face was small, but hopeful, and miles better than the fake grins before. "You totally know that teamwork thing could bite us in the ass as well, right?"_

_Fushimi shrugged. "Sure." But he couldn't help returning Misaki's smile. "It's still worth a try. Better than just giving up."_

That had possibly been the best decision in their entire lives, even if the training sessions that had followed were absolutely cringe-worthy at first. But by the time the tournament rolled around, they had found their rhythm and made it into the semi-finals. Along with the fact that they beat multiple pro teams on their way up, it gave them enough media coverage to be noticed by scouts.

So besides some prize money, they got a sponsorship and had been able to spend the entire past year training together and competing in smaller tournaments, all leading up to the Pokémon League.

And it had paid off. They _won._ Fushimi still couldn't quite believe it. They had struggled a lot in the finals against a boy/girl duo using a combo of Houndoom and Meowstic that really shouldn't have worked as well as it did, but in the end, they could decide the battle in their favour. Which had gotten them a considerable amount of prize money and practically guaranteed their continued sponsorship. They were pros now, no matter how you looked at it.

All that was left now was the fight against last year's winners tomorrow. It was a tradition to close out the League and the surrounding festival with five battles, tournament winners against reigning champions, Tag Battles first and Single Battles last as the grand finale, accompanied by a grandiose closing ceremony with popular singers and Pokémon coordinators. Even the current Champion, Kokujoji Daikaku, would make an appearance despite his old age. Seriously, someone needed to challenge the Elite 4 and him soon and win, Fushimi had no idea what would happen if a Champion actually died undefeated. As far as he knew, that never happened before.

Still, as only winners of the Single Battle tournament had the right to challenge the Elite 4, it was none of Fushimi's business. He needed to prepare for tomorrow's battle. If they won, they wouldn't be allowed to enter any League tournament until they themselves were defeated, but it would mean a lot of press coverage and invitations to tournaments closed to the general public, which in turn would mean more money. Not that they were that bad off at the moment, but it couldn't hurt to put some aside. You never knew what happened in Pokémon Battles, especially in Tag Battles, and there was no guarantee they'd continue to succeed.

Besides, Fushimi simply hated losing.

He grabbed his laptop from his desk and pulled up the information on their opponents. They were a few years older than Misaki and himself, but it didn't matter to Fushimi, as they'd beaten plenty of adults during the tournament. Compared to them, these two were still children.

But they'd held the title for two years and had become pros right after their first entry of the Pokémon League, which definitely meant they were not to be taken lightly as opponents. In fact, it was still a mystery why they'd chosen to go into Tag Battles in the first place, as they'd both made it to the semi-finals during their first League and were immediately offered sponsorships on their own.

On top of that, the newest battle footage was from a charity tournament two months ago that they'd won without much effort. It put them at a clear advantage over Misaki and himself, who had to use their most effective strategies in order to win the tournament.

Still, they each had six Pokémon registered and would have to take two of them each for the battle. Of course, he could only speculate about which those would be, but he could at least try to build a team that couldn't be easily sweeped by any of them and still would work together fluently.

He'd just begun drafting up possible combinations when his Raichu made its way over to the bed and snuggled up against his leg. At first, he'd thought his Pokémon was attracted by the electrical energy of his device, but by now he was pretty sure it simply used it as an excuse to get Fushimi to pet it.

Sighing, he began to comb through the fur, occasionally scratching behind Raichu's ears. Whilst his companion made rather pleased noises, dread settled in Fushimi's stomach. He knew it wasn't a good idea to pet a Raichu, but it would get insufferable if he simply refused. Maybe if he just ran his hand over its back a few more times, it would be satisfied and he could...

Nope.

Electrical energy shot up through his fingertips and up his arm, making his whole body tingle and rendering his left arm useless for a while. When his fingers subsequently stopped moving, Raichu looked up to him, questioningly at first, then somewhat apologetic but also a bit pleased. It curled itself up against Fushimi's leg and wrapped its tail around Fushimi's unmoving arm, seemingly content with its claim of ownership.

Fushimi just kept typing one-handed, too used to this by now to really care. Static'd again.

He really should've learned by now that it always ended like this.

When he heard the door click open about an hour later, Fushimi had multiple possible teams and strategies prepared. His Sylveon had helpfully curled its ribbon around his right arm so he had to keep all movements to a minimum, while his Gengar was fading in and out of his shadow trying to understand what was going on at the computer and figuring out whether it would get to fight tomorrow but also threatening to fall asleep.

Misaki only shouted out a short 'hey' before releasing all of his Pokémon. Fushimi still wasn't sure if he should be jealous or annoyed at the fact that Misaki could take five of his six Pokémon into the rooms with him while he had to leave Garchomp, Infernape and Tentacruel in special areas where they could survive/weren't able to accidentally destroy furniture made for humans. Well, at least it meant he could tease Misaki that - excluding Gyarados - all his Pokémon were just as tiny as him.

While Misaki was still busy taking his shoes off, his Jolteon made a beeline for the bed, trying to settle next to Sylveon. However, having similar Static experiences to its trainer and apparently a colder heart, Sylveon swatted at the newcomer, shifting closer to Fushimi and away from Jolteon. The electric Pokémon stilled in shock, face contorted into an almost comically heartbroken expression. Drooping its ears, it sullenly trotted over to Fushimi's other side, plopping down next to Raichu instead. It received one sleepily opened eye and a sympathetic pat, then Raichu went right back to sleep.

Just seconds after, Misaki took Jolteon's desired place, peering at the screen. "What'cha doing?"

"Isn't it obvious? We have an important mach tomorrow, so I'm planning for it. Not everyone thinks they can win by going to a festival." Of course, the criticism fell on deaf ears. "Oh come on, Saru. My family's here, there's a festival, and I just won the Pokémon League today! Of course we're going! You should have totally come too! It's not like we could stay long with Megumi still being so little, so we still got time to plan now, right?"

Fushimi grimaced. Yes, Misaki's family had come to watch the finale and would stay for the championship battle tomorrow. He'd already been forced to share a late lunch with them in celebration of their victory, and in all honesty, he'd felt completely overwhelmed. Minoru had kept asking him questions without really waiting for answers, looking at him like he was some sort of hero while Misaki's stepfather had awkwardly tried to hold a civil conversation with him over the noise. Misaki himself hadn't been of help either, as he'd been busy boasting to his mother and simultaneously tried helping her feed Megumi without making a huge mess. Which, admittedly, wasn't easy when the girl seemed to have more fun trying to throw her food as far as she could than actually eating it.

So no, when they'd invited him along for their trip to the festival, he hadn't been terribly intrigued. Winning the Pokémon League was a lot easier to him than interacting with Misaki's family.

Shifting his focus back to the present, Fushimi turned his laptop screen to face Misaki. "Fine, whatever. I made up some possible teams, but I think this one is the best." He highlighted it on his PC. Garchomp, Tentacruel, Talonflame, Jolteon. It countered at least most of the opponent's Pokémon and with Garchomp and Talonflame in the lead, it would allow them to deal out huge chunks of damage with Earthquake while Misaki could stick to his hit-and-run-strategy. And while it was predictable, Fushimi had even taken into account Misaki's insistence on using Talonflame in all of his most important matches. But then, pretty much every team had something that was weak to Brave Bird and/or Flare Blitz, and there was even an astounding amount of teams it could effortlessly sweep through, especially if the opponent was dumb enough to focus on Fushimi first, giving it time to set up. He certainly didn't expect their upcoming match to be that easy, but it would definitely put them in a good starting position.

Of course, neither a perfect strategy nor a perfect team existed, especially if they couldn't say for sure what Pokémon their opponents would use. Still, the dissatisfied expression on Misaki's face scratched a little on his pride. Just a little.

"Aren't you gonna use Raichu though?" Fushimi just clicked his tongue. Typical. Misaki was merely projecting his own values as universal again. "No. There'd be no point with you taking Jolteon, and we need Garchomp as our powerhouse and Tentacruel against Mega Altaria and Tyranitar."

Misaki scrunched up his face in displeasure, but then he suddenly pointed at the screen and gave a proud smirk. "You don't seem to think so though." Of course, he'd found the only team Fushimi had deemed possible that included both Raichu and Talonflame. The Talonflame/Garchomp combo would stay intact, but wouldn't start in that case, instead waiting for Raichu to cripple the other team with Thunderwave and... Fushimi raised his eyebrows.

"You want to use Klefki?" It would be setting up the screens to reduce the damage their opponents could deal, making their offensive combo even harder to deal with. It wasn't a bad strategy at all, but it was... not their usual routine. Which was risky, since it had the possibility of messing with their teamwork, but could also greatly benefit them since it was unlikely their opponents would have prepared for such a defensive strategy on their side.

"Why not? He's been itching to fight, since we didn't use him at all during the tournament", Misaki easily shrugged off his concerns. In all honesty, Fushimi had never understood why Misaki had caught Klefki in the first place. All his other Pokémon followed an easy pattern: speedy attackers that also looked cool. So when Misaki had brought out a tiny, pink keychain that relied on setting up Light Screen and Reflect, while also confusing its opponents with Swagger and even stealing their health with Drain Kiss, he'd been taken aback, to say the least. Misaki hadn't proven to be very adept at using it either, leaving it boxed during pretty much all of their official fights.

"I guess it's risky, but doable", he agreed, "but I'd still say Tentacruel and Jolteon are the better options. There's no need to go out of our way just to include Raichu." That got him a light swat at his leg, because of course Raichu wanted to fight, but Fushimi simply ignored it.

Misaki had seemed to make up his mind though. "Come on, it's a good plan! And everyone has that one Pokémon they always bring along when it's important. I'll bet you we're gonna be facing Pyroar and Slowking tomorrow, that's what they always bring out in difficult matches!"

Fushimi wasn't entirely convinced of this, but usually Misaki's gut feeling about their opponents turned out to be correct, so he was willing to place their luck on it. And for their team...

He supposed he could press for his original plan and make Misaki relent eventually, but a sulky Misaki had even less chances of winning that an overly fired up one. He clicked his tongue. "Okay, okay. I get it. We'll take Raichu and Klefki. But that means we'll have to go over all their most likely starting combinations in detail so you don't make a stupid beginner's mistake like setting up the wrong screen first or something."

Misaki looked almost offended at that. Almost. Probably since it would've been far from the first time.

Even though he clearly wasn't thrilled about receiving what would probably be an entirely too long lecture from Fushimi, Misaki obediently settled in a more comfortable position. His face sported a determined expression. Maybe he would actually try and listen to what he was told this time. Fushimi sure hoped so, or tomorrow would turn out to be an absolute disaster.

They discussed their strategy for about an hour, until their conversation slowly drifted to more general and exciting things. Like all the cool things that were theoretically possible in Pokémon Battles. Or what their future could look like if they actually took the win tomorrow. Or all the cool places they could visit with their newly gained money, along with all the different Pokémon that lived there. Tales of legendaries. Local myths to time travel to the creation of the universe.

That night, everything seemed possible.

Maybe it was a bit silly, but when they finally settled down for the night, Fushimi couldn't help but look back at everything that happened to get them there. Every decision, every coincidence. Every battle they fought, every mile they walked, every Pokémon they caught, every hour they trained, every opponent they faced. Wins and losses. Crazy adventures and mundane days spent lazing about.

When he looked down from the top bunk, he could see Misaki grinning in his sleep and their Pokémon cuddled up in a big pile on the floor. Talonflame was a bit squished in the middle, as everyone seemed to try and get some of its warmth for themselves. Sylveon had curled one of its ribbons around Jolteon's paw, possibly as an excuse for earlier.

An unfamiliar, warm feeling began spreading in Fushimi's gut. He couldn't put a name to it, but he didn't feel any need to. As long as things stayed as they were now, they could take on the world together.

Fushimi slowly drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that regardless of the outcome of tomorrow's match, Misaki and him would be together in this room again that night. They had big dreams, sure. They'd do everything to go so much further than this. But maybe, just maybe, for now...

This was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand, that's it! Can you guess the opponents just from their signature Pokémon? :D  
> I have plenty of hcs about how this version of their Small World will get destroyed and mended together again, but this already got way longer than expected, so I just decided to let it end on this happy note as originally planned. That makes it the first multi-chapter fic I ever actually finished, so I'm quite proud of myself.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading it ^-^ Thanks to everyone who left a kudo or a comment, you guys are the best <3


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